Now that I’m not planning a wedding and suffering from the occasional anxiety attack, I need to figure out a way to keep my readership alive. Would you guys read a blog about my pregnancy? I guess I can consider throwing out the birth control pills and blogging about the fetus growing in me…
Seriously though. I have no idea what to do with my newfound free time. I might consider spending it by attempting to legally change my last name to Fernandez because holy sh** that process looks like it’ll take forever. Or I can finally relax and let myself go.
If you’re wondering—yes, the wedding was a blast and probably the best wedding ever. Shame you couldn’t attend. But I’ll blog more on that later because I need pretty pictures to supplement my gibberish.
Following our reception at the Ballroom at Church Street, Halston and I headed straight to the Hyatt Regency at the Orlando International Airport. We thought long and hard about what hotel to stay at that night, but it just didn’t make any sense for us to spend the money on a hotel that we would be at for just a few hours since we had an early morning flight to St. Lucia.
My phone died on the way over there (from going on an Instagram “like” spree) so I couldn’t take a picture of the complimentary bottle of wine they gave us, but this is basically what I looked like:
The next day we arrived in St. Lucia and instead of the hour-long taxi drive I was dreading, I was surprised with a helicopter ride around the island (good job, Halston)!
We then took a short taxi drive from the landing area to the resort while the driver shared a bit about the island with us.
“You’ll notice that we do not have a lot of police around, which could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending how you look at it,” the driver joked.
I’m known for my dramatics and over-analyzing situations so I chewed over that comment as we pulled up to the resort. The driver rolled down the window while pulling up to the guard, gestured at us and said, “Here are the new arrivals.”
RED FLAGS! ABORT MISSION! THEY ARE GOING TO KILL US. THIS IS JUST LIKE THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME!
Thankfully, our resort was lovely and no rich aristocrat attempted to hunt us for sport.
We stayed at The BodyHoliday, which was aptly named for the barrage of “honeymoon nudist resort” comments from our friends (and myself because I’m immature).
This all-inclusive resort “provides a truly luxurious and personal service, a Wellness Centre that provides a range of treatments that will leave you feeling alive and a range of activities that could keep you busy from dawn until dusk. On top of this we cater for every taste in food and drink with five great restaurants and relaxing bars. It is an experience that allows you to be as busy or as quiet as you want.”
So basically, we got drinks on drinks on drinks on drinks, massages and spa treatments every day (which I’ll blog about at a later date), delicious meals and enjoyed activities like sailing, SUP, kayaking, tubing and you could even get scuba certified! Had we stayed at the resort longer, we would’ve loved to do that but I don’t think either of us were in the state of mind to sit through lectures all day.
The resort also gave us a yummy platter and champagne to celebrate our nuptials.
One of the nights, the resort hosted a cocktail party for some of the guests and we were invited. I dreaded the night (always the pessimist) because I imagined it would end up being like a networking event and TripAdvisor failed to tell us that we would be vacationing at the height of British season so there were no Americans in sight.
We ended up meeting a honeymooning couple from Norwich, James and his wife Rachel who were around our age (I’m pretty sure Halston and I were the youngest people as well as the only Americans) and had a great time. Thank you, BodyHoliday, for forcing me to be nice.
Things I learned and observed during our trip:
- Because of the large amount of Brits, some of the food catered to them and Yorkshire Pudding is not real pudding. Do not play with my emotions like that.
- Beans on toast is an abomination and the lesser-known eighth cardinal sin. How is that even considered breakfast? YOUR BEANS GO ON RICE.
- Indian cuisine is very popular in the UK so I was able to enjoy delicious meals like chicken roti and kedgeree and no one thought it was weird to eat rice at 8:00 a.m.
- Pimm’s Iced Tea is the only tea I will drink. Cheers, big ears!
- Someone needs to teach English people how to tan properly. The key is to tanning is to do so in moderation, not basting in oils and laying out for six to eight hours. Remember you want to turn a rich caramel or olive tone, not end up looking like a prawn in Capri pants!
- We spoiled ourselves every night with beautiful ocean views and the sound of waves crashing against the shore. All we have now is an 11 hour video of ocean sounds.
Have you visited St. Lucia before or any of the other islands in the Caribbean? Where did you stay? And what did you do?